


Lonely Knights and Dragon Keepers

by nightlight9



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Brief Unrequited Infatuation: Stiles for Lydia, Dragon Keeper Derek, Dragons, M/M, Sterek endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-06 21:08:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12218997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightlight9/pseuds/nightlight9
Summary: "Who are you? What are you doing here?"Coming to a halt far enough from the stranger that he still feels safe, Stiles responds with, “I’m just a traveler passing through.”As if sensing the lie, the man’s nostrils flare. “Travelers don’t come out this far into the forest. There’s nothing for them to find out here, and they’re smart enough to know not to mess with the woods.” It sounds like an insult and a threat at the same time. “What are you really doing out here?”Steeling himself, Stiles is tells the truth. "I'm looking for a dragon."---------Or the one where Stiles is on a quest to slay a dragon for a princess,  and Derek is the disgruntled dragon keeper who doesn't enjoy having to continuously stop stupid princes from hunting down his pets.





	Lonely Knights and Dragon Keepers

Once there was a young boy, whose mother would tuck him into bed every night with a kiss on the forehead and a story to help him to sleep. She could entertain him for hours with tales of knights in shining armor, mischievous fairies leading travelers astray, werewolves hunting stags on the full moon. Each story began with ‘once upon a time,’ and ended with the traditional ‘and they all lived happily ever after,’ and the boy loved it. He imagined a time when he could go on his own journeys, see the world and all the mysterious creatures from her stories. for himself. He imagined writing his own fairy tale.

Then the boy’s mother fell ill, and no amount of wishing could heal the sickness in her mind. When she died, the boy’s belief in happily ever after died too. He forgot the stories, put away his belief in the fantastic, and learned to live in a reality where nothing but hard work and heartache existed. 

But little did the boy know, his story had yet to begin. And, like so many of the tales that have come before, Stiles Stilinski’s journey begins with a girl, a princess no less. 

However, there is much more to this story than first meets the eye.

\----------

“Come on, Stiles, you can do this.” The encouragement sounds forced and hollow in his ears, but Stiles presses on nonetheless. It’s not like he has much choice about going forward. “Come on. Lydia is worth it. She’s worth this.” 

As simple as the sentence is, it makes a smile grow on Stiles’ face. After all, Lydia Martin, Crown Princess of Beacon Hills, is the whole reason that Stiles is trekking through the forest alone. 

When he was younger, Stiles would accompany his father to the castle for his duties, a privilege granted to him because of the friendship that his parents had with the King and Queen. He was the same age as the young princess, so they were often left alone together, giving Stiles ample time to become enamoured by her. Even though they were so young, and even though the meetings became fewer as they got older, Stiles knew that she was the girl for him. He just never thought that he would get a chance to prove himself to her.

Not until she turned down Prince Whittemore’s public marriage proposal, stating that she’ll only marry someone who can bring her a dragon. Even though it had been years since Stiles had even thought about dragons or magic, he decided right then that he would do just about anything to hunt one down and bring it back to her. Because she was smart and sharp, so much more than just the pretty face that wealthy princes saw, and she was worth fighting for.

Of course, when he set out on his journey (against his father’s and his best friend’s wishes), Stiles hadn’t quite realized what a hardship the trip would be. For one thing, he doesn't even know where to find a dragon, let alone what to do when he does. All the research he did before leaving boasted about how strong and mean dragons are, how killing them is even harder than finding them, and how you’d be lucky to stumble upon one and make it out with your life. That wasn’t the most promising information, but Stiles figured he at least had to try anyway, for Lydia.

And besides, it doesn’t matter how dangerous the dragons are if he can’t find one. 

He has been stumbling through the forests north of the city, edging the sea for five days, and has yet to find any signs of a dragon (or anything else remotely mystical). He has lost his horse though, nearly sprained his ankle stumbling into a fox den, and has fallen headfirst into a river. But so far, nothing less than ordinary has appeared to him. That fact, along with the strain the constant movement is putting on his body, is starting to make him weary.

It doesn’t help that Stiles thinks he might be going crazy. When Scott had offered to accompany him, Stiles turned him down, thinking that he needed to do this all on his own. He hadn’t accounted for what the constant solitude would do to him. Stiles swears that he’s starting to hear whispers anytime that he stops. It’s almost as if the trees themselves are watching him, discussing what the lanky boy is doing all alone in the woods. It makes his skin crawl, he has trouble sleeping because of it, and he can’t decide if there is actually something going on or if he’s just imaging the whole thing. 

He really hopes that it’s just his imagination. 

All he knows is that he’s going to need actual conversation soon. He can only get so much out of talking to himself, and Stiles has always been a verbal processor. Unfortunately for him, the woods do not make the best breeding place for conversation. Unless you’re talking to wild animals or various plant life. 

In fact, Stiles doesn’t even come across anything but trees and solitude until three days later. And the sight of the stranger pulls him up short. 

It’s been years since Stiles has thought about what a fairy would look like. When he was just a kid, he liked to imagine that they were delicate creatures with fine skin and charming laughs. As he grew older, he thought about how they must be so beautiful that it would hurt to look at them, deadly in their perfection.

If either of those descriptions are true, then the man chopping wood before him is definitely _not_ a fairy. He is beautiful, Stiles will admit that easily enough. But there is absolutely nothing delicate about him. With broad shoulders, powerful legs, and muscular arms, the stranger looks more like a knight ready to take down an army of orcs. The ink black hair and scruffy beard seem to lend themselves to that description, and Stiles feels instantly giddy at the prospect of finally having someone to talk to, someone who looks like they might know something about killing dragons. 

Except, when Stiles stumbles close enough to finally catches the man’s attention, the glare cast Stiles’ way suggests that he isn’t happy about finding company in the woods. 

He drops his ax down in the dirt and snarls out, “Who are you?” It’s more of a demand than it is a question. “What are you doing here?”

Coming to a halt far enough from the stranger that he still feels safe, Stiles responds with, “I’m just a traveler passing through.”

As if sensing the lie, the man’s nostrils flare. “Travelers don’t come out this far into the forest. There’s nothing for them to find out here, and they’re smart enough to know not to mess with the woods.” It sounds like an insult and a threat at the same time. “What are you really doing out here?”

It’s obvious that the man expects the truth. But Stiles doesn’t really want to be honest. When he thinks about why he’s dragging himself through the forest, his purpose is starting to sound preposterous even to himself. He knows that the princess is worth it though, and that’s the only thing preventing him from calling the whole thing off and turning back. But this stranger won’t be able to understand. He’ll probably think that Stiles is crazy or foolish. Because of that, blurting out the truth seems like a bad idea. 

But at the same time, Stiles doesn’t have any clue if he’s even close to where a dragon would be hiding. The books that he read said that they liked wild, open spaces, but that didn’t really give him a road map to follow. And if this man lives in the area, then he should know whether or not there are any dragons lurking around or where he might be able to find one. 

That is, if he doesn’t laugh at Stiles and call him nuts for looking for a potentially fictional creature. 

Steeling himself, Stiles tells the truth. ‘I’m looking for a dragon.”

As soon as the words have left his mouth, the stranger reacts. His jaw clenches and he rolls back onto his heels in a defensive stance, frown deepening. “There are no such things as dragons,” he hisses. “You’re a fool to believe such fairy tales.”

Stiles narrows his eyes. “Who are you to know for sure that these creatures don’t exist?”

A muscle in his jaw jumps. “They are from children’s stories, fictional, made up.” When Stiles merely shrugs, the man huffs. “Regardless, even if they were real, you won’t find any dragons around here. I have lived in this area and have explored these woods for years. You’re out of luck. Go somewhere else.”

It is a dismissal. The man punctures it by wrapping a few of the logs he cut in a cloth satchel and hoisting it over his shoulder, picking up his ax, and turning to walk away. Stiles stumbles after him. He can’t let him get away so easily, not when it’s obvious that he’s trying to hide something.

“You’re not going to invite me back to your house?”

The man glares at him from over his shoulder. “Why would I do that? I don’t know you, and you’re clearly delusional.” He holds up a tree branch to duck past it, then snaps it back.

Stiles sputters when it hits him across the jaw, tears welling in his eyes at the sting, but he doesn’t let that stop him. “You’re the first person that I’ve seen in over a week. Isn’t it considered a polite custom to invite a weary traveler back to your home to share a meal?”

There’s a snort full of derision, then, “I’m not polite.”

Stiles clambers over a downed tree and agrees, “Well obviously not. You haven’t even told me your name.”

Suddenly the man turns around, getting in Stiles’ face with eyes full of fury. “Stop. Following. Me.” His voice is all snarl. Stiles stumbles back and the man smiles, satisfied with himself. “Just because you met me in the woods, and just because you have strange notions of hospitality, that doesn’t mean that I owe you anything. There are no dragons here, I don’t want you following me, you should just go back home.”

When he turns and walks away, this time, Stiles lets him go.

Until he thinks about why he’s out here, how Lydia deserves the best, and how this man obviously knows something about dragons if his demeanor is anything to go by, something he doesn't want to share. 

The man doesn’t appear that surprised when Stiles manages to catch up to him. Instead he just pauses and sighs, sounding resigned. “I thought you would be easier to get rid of.” Turning back around, he examines Stiles’ determined expression. , cocking his head to the side as he stares him down. It’s unnerving to say the least. “But you’re going to be as persistent as the others” Before Stiles can ask what that means exactly, the man sighs again. “Let’s just get this over with. You can’t be any worse than the twins.”

Stiles blinks at him, caught off guard. “What?’

“My name is Derek,” is the only response he receives before the man begins walking again. In turn, Stiles introduces himself. All Derek does is grunt in acknowledgment and continue walking.

There is an ease in which Derek leads Stiles through the forest, curving around trees on his own path without hesitation. Not once does he glance back to make sure that Stiles is following him (though it’s impossible for him not to hear how Stiles stumbles around after him), and he doesn't pause for Stiles to catch up to his long strides. He doesn't even offer insight into where it is they’re headed.

It makes Stiles wonder, for the first time, whether or not trusting this complete stranger is a good idea after all. On one hand, Stiles knows that he can defend himself if it’s necessary. He’s been training with the soldiers for years, so he’s not worried about a fight breaking out.

It’s just, he’s never stopped to consider how reckless this whole trip has been. Aside from his father and Scott, no one knows that he’s out here. Not even Lydia herself. And now he’s following a stranger into uncertain territory. Derek obviously knows these woods, can maneuver through them without trouble. And that’s an unnerving thought; Derek has every advantage against him.

Stiles keeps his senses on high alert because of it, and has one hand pressed tight to the hilt of his sword. Derek continues to pay him no mind, but that doesn’t make Stiles relax at all.

He can’t say how long it takes before the trees thin out. When they breach the forest’s edge, everything is green. Wide open meadows cover the landscape in rolling hills leading out to the cliffs overlooking the sea. Among them, nestled cozily into the landscape is a cottage. Derek doesn’t continue in the direction of his home though. Instead he comes to a stop a few yards from the trees, drops the wood and his ax, and lets out one long whistle. 

The hand on Stiles’ weapon tightens. For a drawn out moment, nothing else happens. Then the sky erupts with the sound of metal striking metal. Looking around, bewildered by the sound, Stiles catches sight of a dragon for the first time.

She’s massive, rising over the cliffs and barreling toward where they stand, golden scales gleaming in the sunlight. Stiles feels his chest constrict at the sight of her. He tries to unsheath his sword, but it catches at the last moment and he ends up sprawled on the ground instead, tugging at it uselessly as the creature flies closer.

When the dragon lands a few yards before them, the earth shakes.

Derek is standing over Stiles in an instant, wrenching the weapon from his person with a snarl before tossing it far enough to the side that Stiles has no chance of getting to it before the dragon is upon him. He’s defenseless. All Stiles can do is watch, horrified, as the beast stalks closer. When she gets close enough to bite, Stiles clenches his eyes shut and hopes for a quick death.

Except, nothing happens. There is no death, no pain, no sound. Cracking an eye open, his mouth drops.

The dragon, in all her awesome glory, is nuzzling her snout against Derek’s chest. He has one hand curled on her head, but his eyes are boring into Stiles.

“What.” It’s not even a question, just a word Stiles utters as he tries to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Derek’s frown is a hard edge. “She’s not going to hurt you.”

The dragon pulls her head away from Derek’s chest and eyes Stiles, gaze inhumanly green. He gulps, scrambling to understand. “I-. You-.” Taking a deep breath, he tries again. “You have a dragon.” He feels faint.

From over Derek’s shoulder, something catches the light and Stiles’ attention. Another dragon, this one is smaller and a sleek blue, perches on the cottage’s roof. It is closely followed by a forest green one that flops it’s body down against the ground. They’re both looking in his direction.

“You have three dragons.” He might be sick.

Derek nods, body stiff. “There are more of them that you can’t see right now. You aren’t the first person who’s come out here looking for a hunt. But I won’t let you hurt them.”

It takes him a long moment to put everything together. As he struggles, the golden dragon gets bored watching him and takes flight. The two dragons by the cottage take off after her. Stiles watches them go until they drop down behind the cliffs and disappear. He’s starting to calm down, starting to understand, and now he has questions. “You breed them?” Stiles asks finally, incredulous. 

Derek’s nostrils flare. “I protect them,” he snarls out. If looks could kill, Stiles would be flayed alive.

Still, obviously lacking self preservation skills, he presses on. “You protect the huge, fire breathing monsters? Doesn’t that seem odd to you?”

Derek takes a menacing step closer, making Stiles flinch back. “They are not monsters.” His eyebrow twitches. A vein in his neck throbs. Then, “And not all of them breath fire.”

All Stiles can do for a moment is blink at him. “Seriously? That’s what you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

He backtracks. “Okay, okay. You’re right. This is just a little overwhelming, that’s all. I wasn't even sure dragons existed until a few minutes ago.”

Derek glares at him a moment later, then repeats, “I won’t let you hurt them.”

After seeing the dragons for himself, Stiles wants to point out that he doubts he would have been able to hurt them anyway, even if he still had his sword, but he just nods instead. “Yeah, I understand that.”

“So you can go home.”

Stiles’ whole world seems to narrow when he says that. The panic is still thrumming in his chest, and he thinks that he might still be sick, but-. It’s just that he’s come so far, and the thought of leaving now seems impossible. Not only does he need to figure something out in regards to Lydia, but now that he’s seen the dragons, he wants to know more. He’s always been too curious for his own good, has always seeked knowledge when he should just leave things alone. And if this is the only chance he gets to see and interact with dragons, than he can’t just leave. 

Derek must read something in his silence, because his expression pinches together. “Whatever she promised you was a lie,” he states, voice bland. “Staying here will get you nowhere.”

The statement should make Stiles feel more unbalanced. Instead, it just heightens his curiosity. “How do you know I’m here for a girl?”

“That’s what they all come here for.”

It’s a lie. Stiles knows it is. Derek didn’t say that trying to kill one of his dragons was a waste of time. He explicitly stated that someone had _lied_ about what would happen if Stiles managed to bring one back. It makes him want to press for answers, demand to know whatever Derek does. But he also wants to stay, figure out if dragons can do something other than breath fire. He wants to understand why Derek feels the need to protect them. And, as stupid as it sounds, he wants so see another dragon up close, maybe touch one to see what they feel like. He wants answers, and if he can just convince Derek to let him stay, then maybe he’ll get some. 

He changes the subject and dives right in. “How many dragons do you have here?”

Immediately, Derek’s brow furrows. “Why?”

“You said not all of them breathe fire, so can they do other things? Do all of them fly? Are all of them that big? How do you feed them?”

“What are you-?”

“Do they liked to swim in the sea? Wait, can they swim at all, or would they just sink? How is it that no one knows you’re out here with them? Do you think I might be able to touch one?”

Derek looks slightly shell-shocked, so Stiles stops the flow of questions. After he falls silent, Derek shakes his head and sighs. “I was wrong,” he says, talking to himself. “You are so much worse than the twins.” Seeming to be consider whether or not threatening Stiles will make him leave, he sighs again. “You better not try to hurt any of them?”

That makes Stiles snort. “I’m pretty sure that there is no way I would be able to hurt them, okay. Honestly, I just want to know more about them.”

“Why?”

He throws his hands in the air. “Because dragons are real! Even if I was looking for one, I didn’t actually think I would find anything, okay. Now that I’ve seen one, I want to know everything about them, because it’s not just a fairy tale! And this is probably the only chance I’ll have to meet one.”

Derek just blinks at him. Stiles expects him to say no, to threaten him and then force him to leave. But he just sighs again, grabs the things that he dropped (including Stiles’ sword), and walks towards the cottage.

Stiles scrambles after him, ignoring the way that his legs shake. As soon as they’ve gone a few feet, the golden dragon appears again, settling her large body directly in their path. If he could guess what her expression was, Stiles would say that she stares Derek down with judging eyes. 

For the first time since they’ve met in the woods, Stiles sees Derek’s lips quirk up into a smile.

“This is Vira,” he introduces, inclining his head in her direction. The golden beast tilts her head to one side as she studies Stiles. The screeching sound of metal on metal that Stiles heard earlier vibrates in her chest, this time softer. It sound curious almost. Derek’s smile hardens. He side-eyes Stiles. “She wants to know if letting you wander here is a good idea, wants to know whether or not you’re planning on hurting the younglings.”

Ignoring the questions he has about how Derek could possibly understand that, Stiels holds out his hands and addresses the dragon. “I won’t try and hurt anyone,” he says slowly, keeping his words clear even as his voice shakes. “I just want to understand, that’s all.”

Vira’s eyes narrow for a long moment, before she nods her head once, chirps again, and takes flight.

“Come on,” Derek says, walking again. “Some of the others will be more welcoming.”

He drops off the things he was carrying, then leads Stiles around the cottage to the other side of the field, where three large beasts are curled up in the grass enjoying the afternoon sunlight. Each one of them has a different coloring, and only one looks up as they approach.

As soon as it catches sight of them, the dragon hums a question and rises to his feet. He’s smaller than Vira is, with similar golden scales and a red belly. And he’s much friendlier, coming right to them with an open expression and wide strides. He bumps his nose against Derek's chest in greeting, then immediately pulls back to stare at Stiles with curious clover eyes. 

“This is Mezzor,” Derek says, inclining his head at the dragon. “Behind him, Sam is the blue dragon, and Ardo, the orange.” Mezzor takes a half step closer, and sniffs at Stiles. He’s close enough that Stiles can feel each breath on his face. “Hold out your hands, let him sense you.”

He does as he’s instructed, watching was Mezzor leans closer to them, sniffing all the while. Then, suddenly, he pushes his snout into Stiles hands. Stiles makes a shocked sound when his scales bump against his skin. The scales are softer than he expects, gentle instead of sharp. They’re also very warm, warmer than human skin would ever be.

He’s amazing. 

Derek snorts. “Yeah, he is.” Stiles startles. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Derek walks around Stiles, rubbing his hands over Mezzor’s sides. It makes a rumble roll in his chest and he flops his body on the ground, content to enjoy the attention.

It makes Stiles laugh, loud and unbidden. He feels lighter out here in these fields.

At the sound of his laughter, Ardo rises up and trots over. She doesn’t hesitate to approach Stiles, batting her nose into him until he falls over. And Stiles is terrified. Derek doesn’t step in to help, not even when Ardo pins Stiles to the ground, holding him tight from squirming away. He squeals when her tongue, dark red in color, rolls out rough over his face. Ardo doesn’t pay him any mind, continuing to-groom him?

After a few minutes, Ardo pulls back and lets him crawl away and climb to his feet. Derek is leaning against Mezzor’s side, watching Stiles with a closed off expression. Stiles frowns at him, before turning back to Ardo, who is staring at Stiles’ expectantly. Even though it makes him nervous, he steps closer to her, running his head over her head. 

She closes her eyes, chest rumbling in contentment.

“Does she breath fire,” Stiles asks finally, continuing to rub his hands along her scales. Derek walks over to join them, cradling Ardo’s head in his hands. 

“No.” Her eyes close in bliss as he rubs his fingers across her muzzle. “But you should see her when we get our heavy rains.” Derek smiles and presses his face alongside hers. “She can make the lightning dance.”

Stiles is awed, not only with the dragons themselves, but with how Derek interacts with them. It’s amazing, seeing how open he is and how open they are in turn. 

“Come on,” he says finally, pulling away from Ardo and turning in the direction of the cottage. “It’s time for dinner.”

Stiles follows after him. “Wait, you’re actually going to feed me? I thought you didn’t believe in traveller hospitality.”

Derek snorts. “I’m only letting you in my home because it doesn’t seem like you’ll be leaving anytime soon, and I want to keep an eye on you. Feeding you is just an extension of that. I can’t very well let you starve, now can I?”

Stiles wants to point out that yes, he actually could. But keeping his mouth shut means getting fresh food. 

The cottage is nice, bigger than it looks from a distance and well stocked. Up close, Stiles can take in the multi colored shingles on the roof, the result of having to patch it time and time again from dragon's claws. A huge garden spans behind the house, every type of vegetable planted and well tended. Along one side is a spanning flower garden, which Stiles can tell just by glancing at it that it has been grown with expert care, love and patience.

He wants to pause and examine the flowers, but Derek pulls him along until they’re inside, leading him to the kitchen. 

“Oh, baby!” Stiles stops in the doorway, watching fascinated as a small red and orange dragon hobbles across Derek’s dining room table. It’s barely larger than a cat and wobbly on it’s feet. When she reaches Stiles, she claws her way up his arm to perch at his shoulder. Her claws pinprick at his skin until Stiles feels blood roll across his skin, staining his shirt a faint red.

Derek is there instantly, pulling the small creature away and tucking her to his chest. He looks at Stiles, furious, but Stiles can see the telltale signs of fear in his eyes. “She’s just a youngling,” he states in a growl.

Stiles doesn’t understand where Derek’s hostility came from. He had thought they'd gotten passed it already. Obviously the dragon is a younglings, she’s so small. He wants to point that out, but the way that Derek’s eyebrows are pinched together makes him keep his mouth shut. Honestly, he just wants to understand why Derek is so upset. It’s not like he’s the one who’s bleeding on the table and-. Oh. “Derek, I’m not mad at her.”

He hugs the dragon closer to his chest, protecting her. “She’s not a monster.”

“I know.” He reaches out to lay a hand across Derek’s tense forearm, trying not to think about how natural it feels to reach for him. “I understand that, okay. And I know that she didn’t mean to hurt me. 

The tension in Derek’s shoulders unfurls. Stiles beams at him. “Can I hold her?”

The look he gets in response would make a lesser man sob. Stiles just holds out his arms and grins maniacally. The small dragon makes the decision on her own. She lets out a sharp, clucking sort of sound, pushes her way out of Derek’s arms, and leaps over to Stiles. When she lands against his chest, her claws dig into his skin for leverage. He bites his lips to keep from crying out, and watches in fascination as she crawls her way back up to rest on his shoulder, tucking her small head against his neck. 

It should make him nervous, the way that her scaly head rubs against his bare skin. After all, even though she looks small and harmless, her sharp teeth could still do some major damage. But Derek’s hovering makes Stiles relax back. He knows, without a doubt, that Derek won’t let her take a bite out of him. Not because he wants to protect Stiles. He just doesn’t want her to get into any trouble. 

Derek watches them for a long moment before nodding once and leaving them alone. Stiles settles himself into one of the chairs at the table, and watches Derek bustle around the small kitchen. The dragon hums contently into his skin, breath warm.

“What’s her name?” He asks as Derek is placing two bowls on the table, filled to the brim with some type of soup. Thee dragon keeper startles and spills some on the table, and the small dragon pushes away from Stiles to leap onto the table and lick it up.

“Addie,” Derek finally responds, pushing a bowl in Stiles’ direction. He stares at her a second longer before meeting Stiles’ gaze. “Her name is Addie.”

Stiles smiles, testing the name on his tongue. Addie turns to stare at him afterwards, clucks once, and then returns to tearing into a loaf of bread that was left on the table. After a moment, he asks, “Do you name all of them, or do they name themselves?”

Derek freezes, spoon halfway to his mouth. Stiles rolls his eyes. “I know that you understand all the noises that they make, and I bet that they have enough presence of mind to name themselves. So honestly, I can see it working either way.” He tucks into his food, pleased to find that it’s some sort of cool, vegetable soup. 

Stiles gets halfway through the bowl before Derek responds. “Most of them have given names.” His gaze seems to cloud over, but he keeps talking. “My family raised a lot of the dragons here, hatched them from eggs and cared for them as they got older.” Stiles barely manages to hide his surprise. He knows how long dragons can live, how many generations it would have taken to raise so many dragons. He pointedly doesn’t think about how Derek is all alone at the cottage. “The ones that have joined us here, older dragons that have come here for protection, they already had their names.”

Stiles hums around his soup, too busy spooning it into his mouth to respond. Addie gets bored with the bread and crawls her body up onto Derek’s shoulders, closing her eyes for a nap while he eats. It’s one of the cutest things that Stiles has ever seen, and he wants to coo but decides not to push Derek’s buttons. Instead, he asks more questions, roping Derek into explaining what his lifestyle with the dragons is like, how he keeps them feed, how they are so calm when everyone thinks they are raging beasts. 

Derek seems to enjoy the company. He opens up more about what each of the dragons can do. When he talks about how Vira is a firebreather, his eyes get sad. He explains to Stiles that it’s been a very long time since she has breathed fire, and even though Stiles knows that there is some story there, he doesn’t press for answers.

After the food and the tea that Derek brewed for them is long gone, Stiles proclaims that he should probably get his tent set up for the night.

Derek shakes his head. “I’m not going to let you sleep in a tent in the fields.”

It’s disappointing. Stiles doesn’t want to leave, that’s for sure. And heading off into the woods after nightfall, when he has no idea exactly where they are, is just asking for trouble. He’s ready to protest, when Derek shakes his head again.

“You’ll sleep here, so that I can keep an eye on you.” He stands, stretching out and motioning for Stiles to follow. “Come on, I’ll show you where you can put your things.”

Before he can get too far, Stiles has one more question to ask. It’s risky, bringing it up again after Derek has been so hospitable. But it’s been nagging at Stiles, and he needs an answer. “Can I ask one more thing, before we go to bed?”

Derek’s expression pinches together, like he knows what’s coming. He nods.

“You knew why I was here when I showed up. How?”

Carefully, Derek folds himself back into his chair. “You’re asking how I know about the princess, and the promise she made to marry whomever brings her a dragon?” Stiles nods and Derek sighs. “You have to understand, Stiles, it isn’t my place to tell you why we struck the deal we did. But I can explain it to you in hopes you might understand. Lydia and I have known each other for several years. Though we are not necessarily close, we spent a lot of time together when I came here. I-. We-.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, tugging on the locks gently. 

“She confided in me one day, that she was worried what would happen when suitors finally showed up, thinking that she would marry whoever asked. Because of her position, it is expected that she will get married, and there is a competition for her hand. I owed her a lot, and we have something very important in common, so I wanted to make it easier for her. I told her that, whenever someone showed up to ask for her hand, that she should tell them she would only marry whoever could bring her back a dragon, sending them here to me. And I would scare them away.”

Stiles doesn't really understand. “She has no intention of getting married?”

He sighs. “That’s not-. It’s not my place to explain why she agreed to this, aside from the fact that she wants to marry for love, not as some political arrangement.”

A weight settles on his chest. “So I never had a chance.”

Derek smiles, though there is nothing humorous about it. “You never would have been able to get a dragon anyway. I would have done anything and everything to stop you. And when it comes to marrying Lydia, there is really only one person who has a chance at all.”

“The person she loves.”

“Yes.”

He’s confused, and a little sad, but it is kind of nice having an answer. And even if he doesn’t understand completely, he knows that Lydia deserves to love someone, even if it isn’t him. He can’t fault her for wanting her own happiness.

“I’m sorry,” Derek says, and it almost sounds like he’s being honest.

Stiles shrugs. “It’s alright. I didn’t really have a chance with her anyway. I guess I was just fooling myself, coming out here.” He claps his hands against the table and pushes himself to his feet. “Now, what were you saying about having a place for me to sleep?”

Derek frowns, and tilts his head at the door. “Wait in there while I put these bowls away, then I’ll show you.”

Thankful to be given some space, Stiles immediately scurries through the door. 

The dragon laying in the living room takes Stiles by surprise. He’s about as big as a large dog and his scales are a deep purple, swirled with soft blues. When Stiles nearly trips over him, the dragon lifts his head to stare at him with dark green eyes. But what grabs his attention, what Stiles can’t tear his gaze from, are the gnarled shreds atop his back. Stiles assumes the must have been his wings.

“He was injured saving my life,” Derek says, coming up behind him. Stiles glances at him from over his shoulder, but Derek isn’t looking at him. “His wings never healed.”

Stiles swallows. He wonders what kind of accident could have shredded a dragon’s wings like that, but keeps those questions to himself. Instead he asks, “What’s his name?”

He can hear Derek smile when he responds with, “Halbert, but I call him Hal.” The dragon perks up when Derek says his name, long tail swishing over the floor. “You can pet him, if you’d like. He likes the the attention.”

That’s all the permission Stiles needs to fold himself onto the floor. Derek ducks his head down, hiding a smile, then moves past them. He picks up the pack Stiles brought with him and disappears to set up a place for him to sleep.

Hal does enjoy the attention. He turns his head to the side so that Stiles can rub his throat. It’s weird, how domesticated he seems, how they all seem, despite being large mythical creatures who can most certainly care for themselves. Stiles understands now, that the dragons stay with Derek out of loyalty. Though the stories have painted them as these murderous, violent creatures, it has been a long time since they have felt the need to burn everything in their paths. When the world was ruled by war, so were the dragons. They were hunted, used as weapons, tore apart. But after the wars of old died out, after Derek’s ancestors created a place where they would be safe from hunters, the dragons were allowed to shake off their violence. They are loyal to Derek’s family for what was given to them, loyal to Derek. Hal’s crumbled wings are a testament to that.

Derek reappears and gestures Stiles forward. Hal follows behind them, crawling against the floor without hesitation. He leads him to a bedroom where a sleeping pad has been rolled out on the floor and piled with blankets. 

“You can sleep there,” Derek says, gesturing to the bed he made. “This is my room, and Hal sleeps in here too, so we can both keep an eye on you.”

Even though it’s on the floor, it looks so comfortable Stiles wants to sink into it with a sigh. Derek stops him though, gripping his shoulder tight and thrusting a shirt against his chest. 

“You’ll be more comfortable if you clean up first. The bath is in that room over there, and you can put that on when you’re finished.”

Stiles just blinks at the statement, stunned by the kindness. When he’s shoved forward, Stiles goes to get cleaned up. Derek has heated a small tub for him with hot water, something Stiles hasn’t had the luxury of cleaning with since he began his trip. He spends a long time, wiping the grime from his skin, washing behind his ears, enjoying the way the water’s heat seeps into his skin. By the time he’s finished, his whole body is warm and relaxed. Derek’s shirt is soft on his skin and long enough that he doesn't feel the need to put his pants back on before returning to the room.

Derek is tucked into bed already, reading in the soft light. Stiles nods at him in thanks, then sinks onto the sleeping pad, wrapping the blankets around him like a cocoon. He sighs sleepily when Derek bids him goodnight, sleep already claiming him. His last thought, before he drifts off, if how much he’s looking forward to tomorrow. 

\----------

Staying with Derek is...actually kind of nice. After day three, the dragon keeper relaxes enough around Stiles that he allows him to move around the cottage and clearing unaccompanied, and the few dragons that were still weary of him accept his presence without complaint (except Vira, and Stiles has no idea how to win her over). He’s learned Derek’s schedule enough that he knows how to help him through his daily duties, enjoying the way that they can move so seamlessly together even though they’re still mostly strangers. Addie has taken to curling up with him on his sleeping pad at night, tucking her small body against his and drifting to sleep herself.

And learning about Derek turns out to be one of Stiles’ favorite things to do in his free time. He likes figuring out how to make him smile, especially because the dragon keeper falls into sad silences often, haunted by a past Stiles knows nothing about. Making him laugh during those moments is hard, but Stiles makes it his goal to accomplish it. He likes the challenge.

He’s been at the cottage just under a week when someone else joins them. 

Stiles is tackling the weeds polluting Derek’s vegetable garden, Addie dozing softly at his side, when Mezzor crashes to the ground beside them, chirping excessively. Addie blinks herself awake, still drowsy, until she finally seems to understand whatever Mezzor is saying. Then she’s wide awake, flapping her wings excessively though she’s still too young to fly. Mezzor scoops her up with his snout just as Derek appears from the side of the house, his expression guarded.

“Take her somewhere safe,” he barks at Mezzor while wrenching Stiles to his feet. “You, come with me.” He hands over his sword without hesitation. 

“What?” Stiles asks as he handles the weapon. The object, which has felt familiar in his hands from being handled everyday for years, is heavier than he remembers.

Derek’s mouth is pulled into a frown as he tugs Stiles forward toward the tree line. It’s reminiscent of the day that they met, and when he explains what’s happening, Stiles understands why.

“Someone’s headed this way fast.”

Stiles stumbles. “Are they coming for the dragons?”

Derek nods, sharp. “That’s the only reason people travel this far.” An ugly feeling curls in Stiles’ chest: regret for why he ended up at Derek’s cottage, fear for the dragons hiding away, anger that someone could even think about hurting them. Days ago, he was in their same position. Now, everything has changed. He grips the sword tighter, and quickens his pace.

It doesn’t take long for the stranger to appear. He’s younger, younger than Stiles, younger than the Crown Princess. But there’s something in his eyes, a determination, that is well beyond his years. He unsheathes his sword as soon as he sees the party waiting for him. 

“Good evening,” he greets in a falsely pleasant tone. 

Derek scowls, anger radiating from him. “What are you doing here?”

The boy smiles, all edge. “I’m just passing through. Actually, I’m looking for something. Perhaps you could be of assistance.”

Derek’s scowl is in full bloom. “Whatever you need, this is not the place for you.”

Instead of being intimidated, the boy smiles wider. “Actually, I’m sure that this is exactly where I need to be. I paid a heavy price to find information on dragons, and all of my sources have pointed me here.” When Derek remains silent, the boy shakes his head. “We should start again. I am Theo Raeken, heir of the Raeken family estate. I am looking for dragons, and I know for a fact that you have some hiding away out here, Derek Hale.”

That breaks through Derek’s tough exterior, making him stumble back in surprise. Stiles doesn’t wait for him to respond. Seeing his upset expression and the smug, satisfied smirk pulling Theo’s lips up, he stops thinking altogether, lets his soldier’s training kick in, and reacts on instinct. Theo is anticipating the attack though, raises his sword to in an effortless block. When their swords clash together, the sound that erupts in the air makes the ground shake. Vira drops from the sky, snapping out at Theo. Despite his earlier bravado, the sword falls from his hands in terror. Vira uses her snout to push Stiles back towards Derek, and then steps toward Theo herself. 

Derek doesn’t step in to stop her from attacking. He just catches Stiles around the waist before he can fall, and watches everything with narrowed eyes. 

Stiles presses back into Derek’s chest, bracing himself for bloodshed. Instead, another figure emerges from the trees. The girl is beautiful, long silver hair pulled into a soft braid. She’s wearing a worn leather tunic and no shoes, and she’s one of the most captivating things Stiles has ever seen. Vira relaxes back instantly when she sees the newcomer, who smiles at the display before waving her hand in Theo’s direction. 

The boy freezes completely, eyes open wide in terror.

“Orla,” Derek says softly, bowing as best he can while continuing to clutch at Stiles’ waist. “Thank you for coming.

The girl’s lavender gaze is unnerving. “We could tell that this one would be more trouble. He’s much darker than the others, so much more dangerous and tainted with death.” He voice is like wind through the trees, gentle and otherworldly. “We had to let him reach you, but have been ready to step in when Vira called for our help.”

“I appreciate your kindness.”

Orla’s smile widens. “We will take care of him from here, Derek Hale. He will bother you no more.” She quirks her head to the side, her gaze catching on Stiles’ form. “We see that the outcome of his meeting went better than the others.” Derek’s hands tighten minutely. It makes Orla laugh. “Do not worry, Derek Hale. We are not going to steal him away. If he has been accepted by her, we accept him as well. He is welcome to travel through our forests and no harm shall come to him. The paths have been opened.” Without looking away from them, she lifts her hand in the air and gestures back to the trees. Moments later, the horse that Stiles lost at the beginning of his journey appears unharmed. Orla smiles when Stiles’ mouth drops. “We will be off now. Do not worry, this boy will not find you again.”

She waves her hand at Theo, who follows her back towards the trees in a daze. Derek bows to her once again, only straightening up again after they are both gone from view.

“What just happened,” Stiles breathes, his muscles unclenching. 

Derek sighs. “You’ve just met one of the most powerful beings from the forest. Orla is one of the old fae; she belongs to the forest, and the forest belongs to her.” He releases Stiles and takes a step back. “Because of my connection with the dragons, and the legacy that my family created, I was welcomed to this place with open arms from the fae and promised asylum and protection from the outside world. If I ever needed help, or if one of the dragons called for the fae, they would appear and provide aid. Because of the deal that I made with Lydia, the connections I had to her family, and a few other circumstances, they couldn’t cut this area off completely, though I think they would have preferred it that way. That’s why those who come in search of me and the dragons can find their way through the forest to us without the fae intervening.”

Silence envelops the area after his explanation. Vira swings her head around and nudges her snout into Derek’s chest. Stiles watches the interaction with a fond smile, even though he feels off balance from everything that just happened. As if sensing his distress, Vira pulls her head back and stares at him. Then, very slowly, she leans in and presses her snout against his chest instead.

He looks over at Derek in surprise and astonishment. Derek smiles, and tilts his head in a nod.

Stiles brings his hand up to curl over her head, and she rumbles contently. Each exhale is wet and warm against Stiles’ clothes, and they steady him in a surprising way. 

After a few minutes, Vira pulls back, nods at Stiles, then turns and trots back in the directions of the house, carefully not to hit them with her tail. A few of the others are waiting for her by the cottage, and when she reaches them, they all curl around her into a comfortable dragon pile.

Derek shakes his head at the display, expression fond. “Go get your horse. If he’s been around the fae this long, he’ll have no problem with the dragons” he tells Stiles. “Then we can have dinner.”

Stiles watches him go, but he doesn’t move. It’s just occurred to him, now that his horse has been returned, how he hasn’t been thinking about going home at all. He hasn’t thought about returning to Lydia, hasn't considered how worried his father must be, hasn’t given much thought at all to the passing time. He likes it here with Derek, likes how easy it was to fall into his lifestyle. 

He must stand out there for too long, because Derek appears again, his expression full of concern. “Stiles, are you alright?”

He swallows, once, twice. “I-.” He has to pause to get his thoughts in order. “I think I’ve been here too long.”

Derek flinches back slightly, but then his expression turns to one of cool understanding. “You want to go home.”

Stiles shakes his head, suddenly frantic for Derek to understand. “That’s just it; since coming here, I haven’t even really thought about going back. I-. I don’t want to leave, don’t want to miss the dragons,” or you, he adds silently, not voicing the confession aloud. “But my dad must be so worried. He’s probably assumed the worst and-.”

Derek reaches out and grabs hold of Stiles’ shoulder. “Stiles, it’s alright. I understand. Your place is with them, and now it’s time you return to the city.”

He wants to whimper and barely manages to keep silent. 

“Tomorrow we’ll get everything ready for your trip, alright. That way you can tell everyone goodbye, and you won’t have to travel in the dark.” His hand tightens, pulling Stiles toward the house. “But for now, dinner is ready. We can still enjoy tonight.”

Finally, Stiles nods. Derek lets him go so he can get the horse, giving him space to lock all of his emotions away. It allows Stiles to conclude that going back is the right thing to do. He has his whole life in the city, is so close to becoming a part of the Guard. He has his father, and Scott. As much as it will hurt to leave Derek and his dragons, it’s something that Stiles has to do.

When Addie lays beside him that night, Stiles clutches her close to his chest. He doesn’t sleep at all. 

In the morning, the house that Stiles has come to associate with warmth and the frenzy of routine is quiet. Hal follows Stiles around as he moves from room to room, collecting all of his things. Addie refuses to move from Stiles’ shoulder, holding on with her claws as he packs his bags. Derek cooks him breakfast and then puts together meals that he can bring on the trip back, hardly saying anything at all. Seeing how closed off he is, how the fond light in his eyes has disappeared, that’s the hardest thing for Stiles. He avoids the kitchen as much as possible after he eats, moving outside to say goodbye to the dragons he’s befriended. 

Mezzor rubs the side of his snout against Stiles’ chest and back; Ardo curls her tail around his legs and pins him down with her paws so she can lick at his face; Sam presses his nose to Stiles neck and scents him, pleased when Stiles doesn’t push him away.

None of them follow when Derek appears at the doorway with Stiles’ bags. Only Vira is waiting with Derek beside his horse, standing proud and gleaming in the sunlight. 

“The path back will be easy to follow,” Derek says, not looking his way as he straps his bags to the horse. “Even so, it should take a couple of days. I’ve packed enough food for you so you won’t run out.” 

Stiles swallows and remains silent, watching him work.

“I would threaten you about what will happen if you tell someone about the dragons,” a smile is evident in Derek’s voice, teasing. “But I’m not worried about you bringing harm here anymore.”

Stiles snorts at the implication. “I wouldn’t even think about it, Derek.”

Finally, he turns around to look at him. “I know.” That simple sentence carries a lot of weight. Shaking his head, Derek breaks whatever unspoken energy was growing between them. “It looks like you’re all set.”

Vira interrupts, leaning in and brushing her head against his chest. She rumbles, and Derek laughs. “She wants you to know that she trusts you with everything here.” Stiles doesn't know why that’s funny until he adds, “And if anyone ever hurts you and you need help, call for her and she’ll eat all of their livestock.”

Stiles laughs, ignoring how his eyes prickle. “I wish I could understand them,” he murmurs, running his hands across her scales. 

Derek snorts. “It took me years to figure it out, and I started learning when I was just a boy.” Stiles shrugs. “Come on, Stiles, it’s time to go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you’ll get back.”

He knows he’s right. Stiles is about to climb on the horse when he changes his minds, spinning around to wrap Derek in a tight hug. Derek stiffens upon contact, but slips his arms around Stiles’ waist a moment later.

“Thank you,” Stiles breathes into the air between them. “For letting me stay.”

Derek squeezes him tightly. “Thank you. For keeping me company and being willing to learn.”

Stiles pushes away from the embrace, smiles at Derek, and climbs onto the horse in a practiced movement. 

“I’ll see you,” Stiles says. The words taste like a lie.

Derek lets the statement go and smiles, small and somewhat sad. “Sure thing. Follow the path, it will take you home.” He pats at the horse to get it moving, and waits with Vira at the forest’s edge until Stiles disappears from sight.

\----------

The journey to Derek took five days. The journey back takes only two and a half.

Stiles is detained as soon as he enters the city. The soldiers search through his belongings twice, without really offering much explanation as to why they’ve stopped him or what they’re looking for. But Stiles doesn't press them for information. He’s feeling off balance, as if walking away from Derek and his dragons has left him ripped open wide. It’s not necessarily something he wants to think about too closely, but the void in his chest demands to be felt. When they finally let him go, he moves on autopilot back to the house he still shares with his father. 

John pulls him into a tight hug as soon as he’s through the door. Stiles expects questions, but his dad doesn’t utter a word. 

As soon as the hug ends, Stiles understands why.

Sitting calmly at their kitchen table is the Crown Princess herself. Her hair reminds Stiles of Addie’s coloring, and it makes him ache. She arches one eyebrow at him when all he says in response to her presence is, “Oh.”

“Hello, Stiles. I apologize for having you detained earlier, but I needed to be warned when you got back to the city so that I could meet you here.”

Everything finally clicks together. “You had them search me to see if I had brought a dragon back.”

Her eyes are hard and unapologetic. “Indeed I did. I wanted to make sure that this could be settled without making a scene. Sit.”

He could refuse. It is his house, after all. And even if she is going to be the queen someday, he doesn’t think that this is the matter of a queen. It has everything to do with Lydia herself, as a person who wants to make her own choices, not as the pawn in a political game.

Still, he settles himself across from her at the table, grateful to be off of his feet. His father excuses himself, and Stiles is glad for the privacy. Whatever Lydia wants to say, and whatever Stiles is going to admit, it should be between them. 

“Stiles, I know that you and I have known each other a long time. And I know that, for many of those years, you’ve been infatuated with this idea of me. But I never expected you would do something so foolish.”

He snorts at her. “Than perhaps you didn’t know me well at all.”

Her gaze sharpens. “Is this a joke to you? Your father requested an audience with me the day after you disappeared to explain what your plan was. I was disappointed that you would try something like that, but I wasn't worried that you would have a chance at bringing a dragon back.”

“Because of the deal you made with Derek.”

In all of the years that he’s known her, Stiles has never had the pleasure of seeing Lydia look so surprised. “I-. You know about that?”

He shrugs, tracing the wood grain of the table with his thumb. “Some of it. He wouldn’t tell me everything, said it wasn’t his place, but I know that you made a deal about sending suitors to him so he could scare them away.”

There’s a moment's pause, then she exhales. “Yes. The deal was made long before Jackson even proposed.” She gets a distant look in her eyes, full of longing. “I’ve known Derek for a long time. My family, his family, and the history of the dragons themselves have been intertwined for decades. A long time ago, dragons roamed the land, and everyone knew about their existence. But then a prominent family, the Argents, decided that hunting these creatures made for good sport. So many dragons were killed, as they are not violent by nature. That’s when the Hale’s stepped in, rounded up the dragons, and hid them away. They became the dragon keepers, and eventually everyone forgot about the past. Dragons became myths. But the Argents didn’t forget, and they didn’t forgive the Hale’s for casting their family in suspicious shadows.

“I met Derek the day that most of his family died. There had been an attack on the family in the middle of the night, and the house was set on fire with everyone inside. The Argent woman who started the blaze hoped that it would kill all of the Hales and then her and her group would be able to hunt down and kill the dragons that survived. What she hadn’t anticipated was how quickly the dragons, in their grief, would fight back. No one in her party survived, but the damage was done. The Hales, and everything that they had built, were burning down. 

“Derek survived because he was dragged out of the house by one of the dragons.” Stiles recalls what Derek had told him about Halbert, about how he had saved his life. It makes his chest ache, knowing that the chubby dragon had carried Derek out of a burning building. “He was lucky. The dragon tried to go back in and save the others, but the structure was collapsing, and he barely made it out with his life. Laura, Derek’s older sister, was the only other person to survive. They fled to the cottage where Derek lives now, a place that their parents built in case something bad were to happen. 

“My family had been friends with the Hales, had known, as all of our ancestors did, about what they were protecting. My father and I met them at the cottage and had everything ready for them when they arrived. Both Laura and Derek were injured, and it took weeks before they could even walk on their own, but my dad and I didn’t mind staying with them. Everyone here thought that we were on a political trip somewhere, but really we spent that summer with them. Derek, between the two of them, was hurt a lot worse. For the most part he stayed curled up in his bed with the dragon who saved him. Laura was better. After about a month, she started helping around the house.” At this point in Lydia’s story, her expression changes. A fond smile, small and shy, pulls her lips up and her eyes glisten. Suddenly, Stiles understands where this story is going. “We planted the garden together, Laura and I, and got closer everyday we were together. By the end of the summer, we were in love.”

Lydia trails off after admitting it, gaze distant. The house is silent while Stiles waits for her to go on. Finally, he has to prompt her. “What happened? I mean-. Derek is there alone?”

She meets his gaze. “Laura left. The head of the Argent family found out what happened to his daughter, knew that we were harboring the only survivors from the fire and their dragons, and declared war on our kingdom when my mother refused to give them up. Laura was healed at that point, and she wanted to fight for her family, and for us and what we had done for her and her brother. My father and Derek tried to stop her from leaving, but I knew that she had to go. “

“And you promised to wait for her.” Stiles understands now, can see why Lydia turned down every proposal she got, despite how well the political matches would be. He had always thought that Lydia was just waiting for the best offer, waiting for someone to prove themselves worthy of her. But all this time, she was waiting for something else entirely. The war started almost three years ago, which meant that at sixteen Lydia found the person that she wanted to spend her life with. And she was going to wait for her.

“Yes, I promised to wait for her. And I will, no matter how long it will take for her to return to my side.” She sighs, leaning back in what Stiles would be tempted to call a sprawl if he thought she was capable of sprawling. “I stayed with Derek for a few weeks after she left. He was the one who came up with the deal. He knew that, because of my station, it would be expected that I would marry young. The deal makes it possible that I can put it off until she comes back. So I wasn’t worried when your father told me what you were trying to do. I knew that Derek would take care of it. But when you were gone for so long, I made sure to have my guards keep an eye out for you, just in case.”

Stiles sighs, figuring that it’s his turn to explain things now. “At first, I was determined to find you a dragon. I thought that, if I could just get your attention, you would see how good we could be together. And if bringing back a dragon would be enough to do that, then I was going to do everything I could to make it happen.” He smiles softly, and ducks his head. “Then I met Derek. He was gruff and dismissive, and even though he tried to scare me off, I thought that you were worth whatever he was going to throw at me. And then I met the dragons, and I was terrified and intrigued. I just wanted to know more about them.”

He can feel her gaze on him, but he doesn’t look up. “He let you stay?”

“Yeah. He let me meet the dragons, told me about what they were capable of, had me help around the house when it was obvious I didn’t want to leave. I probably would be there still if a prince hadn’t shown up for the same reason I had and made me realize that I hadn’t thought about coming home at all.”

Stiles glances up just in time to see Lydia’s knowing nod, and he can’t say for sure that he likes the understanding gleam in her eyes. They’re silent for a moment, then she straightens up.

“Stiles, I want you to join my personal Guard.”

He’s blindsided by the proposal. “I-. What? Why?”

Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she smiles. “Because you’re the only person who knows what’s going on who I can talk to it about. Because, even though you were obsessed with me, we’ve still been pretty good friends.. You’re not afraid to be candid with me even though I’m the Crown Princess. And I know that you were training for the Guard before you left, and that you need a job now that you’re back in the city. Plus, I trust you to look after me.”

Narrowing his eyes at her, Stiles asks, “And you’re not worried that I’m still in love with you?”

She laughs. “Stiles, you were never in love with me. You just loved the idea of me, that’s all. And no, I’m not worried that you still feel that way.”

Considering it for a moment, he wants to say no. After spending time at the cottage, enjoying the gardening and the peace of easy living, he wants to turn down the offer. But he does need a job, and being a part of Lydia’s Guard won’t be so bad. 

When she reaches over the table, he shakes her hand. They both smile.

\----------

Being a part of the Crown Princess’ Guard isn’t that bad at all, especially because Lydia spends a lot of her time in her libraries. Stiles’ dad doesn’t understand what happened during their conversation that got Stiles a job, and Scott doesn’t understand how Stiles could get over the ‘love of his life’ so quickly, but they both want him to be happy so they avoid asking questions. 

And he is. Happy, that is.

Being around Lydia actually turns out to be really nice when he isn’t vying for her attention. He makes friends with some of the others in her Guard, learns her routines fairly quickly, and gets into the rhythm of his new life.

He tries not to think about Derek and the dragons. He usually fails.

Perhaps what is most shocking about following Lydia around, is learning that she writes to Laura every other day. She never receives any letter back, not that Stiles knows of, but she keeps writing without fail.

It makes him wonder what it would be like to love someone that much, so completely that time and distance mean nothing. He’s happy that Lydia has something like that, even when he can see the weariness in her eyes as the war drags on. 

On a Tuesday, nearly five weeks after Stiles has returned to the city, the Queen is notified that the war has ended. Lydia locks herself in her rooms for the rest of the day. When she finally comes out, she crumbles against Stiles side wordlessly, and hides her smile against his skin.

But Laura doesn’t show up.

A week goes by with no word. Lydia pulls herself together, wraps herself in the illusions of a pampered princess, silk dresses flowing as she walks with her people in the streets. But Stiles sees beneath that, sees the fear. She refuses to talk about it when he brings it up though, and he respects her rights to remain silent.

Everyone is sitting in the city courtyard, enjoying the warm sun and bustling market when something obstructs the sun’s rays, casting shadows over the merriment. Some of the guards draw their weapons and move closer to Lydia, but when Stiles looks up and catches sight of a familiar golden body, he relaxes back. Glancing over at Lydia, he sees that she’s climbed to her feet. Her hands are pressed tightly to her chest, and her expression is one of cautious hope. She looks young, waiting there, so young.

Stiles smiles.

When Vira lands in the space cleared for her, a chorus of gasps and murmurs fill the square. One woman looks like she might faint. Another draws her children close to her body, ready to protect them if need be. But Vira stands tall and proud, not moving at all as the figure on her back dismounts. 

The woman is wearing the uniform of a soldier, tall boots of worn leather and a fierce smile. Her dark hair is coiled into a tight braid and she has Derek’s light eyes. There is one long scar running down her cheek, a trophy from everything she must have witnessed. At her side is a bundle of letters, bound with pink ribbon, each one well worn. 

Stiles’ skin feels like it’s humming when Laura steps forward and Lydia moves past her guards to meet her. Around them, everyone seems to freeze. Their murmurs die out in favor of stunned silence. 

Laura gets down on one knee and looks up at Lydia as if she was the moon herself. “I was told,” she begins, voice ringing out for everyone to hear, “that you would only marry someone who could fetch you a dragon. I hope that time and battle have not changed that.”

Laura doesn’t have a chance to get further into whatever speech she has planned. Lydia throws herself down into her arms before she can say another word.

“You got all my letters,” she says, running a finger over the parchment. “You came back.”

“I would always come back for you, Lydia.” It’s honest and personal, so open and raw. Even though they are still surrounded by the villagers, Lydia pulls Laura in for a kiss.

The crowd erupts into applause. It’s obvious to Stiles that they are still weary of Vira, are still trying to come to grips with the fact that dragons exist. But watching their princess fall in love seems to make up for their fear.

Stiles knows, without a doubt, that their story will become its own fairy tale, filled with tragedy, hope, dragons, and happily ever after. 

It makes his chest feel empty, and he can’t say for sure why.

\----------

After Laura’s return, Stiles’ job at the castle changes. Instead of spending his days following Lydia around, Stiles gets to help guard Vira. And it’s nice, being able to spend his days with her. He knows that she'll eventually return to Derek, so Stiles enjoys the time he gets with her.

His chest still feels empty though. He tries not to think about it.

Stiles has just gotten home from the castle, has just settled in to make dinner, when there is a knock at the door. His father answers it, and invites Laura inside without asking too many questions. 

Since she has shown up, Stiles has not had the opportunity to talk to her. Honestly, he never expected that he would get to. And yet, “Um, hello?”

She cocks her head to one side, watching him closely enough that it makes him squirm. Finally, she smiles. “You're not what I thought you’d be,” she says in greeting. “The way Derek talked about you, I thought you would be smaller.”

Stiles blinks at her. As soon as she says Derek’s name, his heart races. “I-. He told you about me?”

She laughs, all warmth. “Yes, Stiles. He wouldn’t stop talking about you. He was worried that you wouldn’t be happy in the city, wanted me to check in on you and see how you were.”

“Oh.”

She comes closer and shoves at his shoulder in a familiar way. “You know, my brother doesn’t care about much these days, aside from the dragons. But when he talked about you, he was like he was before the fire, so full of energy and a hopeless, helpless glee. He misses you.”

Stiles is silent, taking in everything she’s said. He made Derek happy. Derek misses him. “I miss him too,” he admits, a smile pulling his lips back when he pictures Derek’s face. The words, “A lot,” come out unbidden.

It makes Laura grin. “You know,” she starts, running her finger over the wood of the table. “You could go to him. He would be happy to have company.”

He’s thought about it, packing up his things and returning to Derek. He’s thought about it a lot actually. But every time, he decides against it. “He like the solitude,” he says, telling her the same excuses he’s told himself. “And now that you’re back, he shouldn’t have anyone trampling through the forest to find his dragons for Lydia. Plus, I have a life here. My dad is here.”

She shrugs. “I know. And I know how important family is. But I’ve learned that sometimes, we have to make choices for ourselves. Leaving Derek, especially when he was still hurt, almost broke me. But it was something that I had to do, not for him or for Lydia or for the kingdom. I had to do it for myself. Leaving your family here would be hard too, but leaving them doesn't mean losing them. I know because, even though I wanted to stay with Derek after the war ended, I had to leave him to be happy. I can always visit him, but I’m ready to make my life here.”

Though they’ve not met before, Laura tugs him into a tight hug. She smells like the forest and smoke, like Lydia’s perfume and something deeper. He hugs her back, because it feels natural. “Think about it, please. Not for him, or for me. But for yourself. Because he cares about you. And I think, maybe, you might care for him too.”

Laura shows herself out as soon as she’s said that, leaving Stiles alone with her words. 

He isn’t alone for very long though. His father settles into the seat across from him at the table, crosses his hands, and watches Stiles with a considering expression.

Stiles sighs. “How much of that did you hear?”

His father shrugs. “Enough to confirm my suspicions. Since you got back from that trip, you’ve seemed older, more grounded. But you’ve also seemed very sad, like you left something important behind that you thought you would never have again. I wanted to press for questions, but then you started working for the Guard, and there was never time.”

“I-.”

John holds up his hand before Stiles can say anything. “Son, There’s nothing wrong with how you’re feeling. There’s nothing wrong with being unhappy if you’re here without this Derek fellow.”

“I’m not unhappy,” he hurries to explain. Of course, when his dad stops talking, giving Stiles the chance, he doesn’t know how to describe how he feels. “It’s-.” Stiles closes his eyes. “I’m not unhappy. I like being here with you, and I like working with the Guard. But, it feels like a part of me is missing. There’s a void in my chest that’s been there since I’ve left him. I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

His father huffs out a laugh. “Sounds like love to me, kid.”

Stiles startles, nearly falling out of his chair. He looks at his father, incredulous. “Dad, it can’t be-. I was only at the cottage for a week and-.”

John snorts. “I knew that I loved your mother after our second meeting. Stiles, loving someone doesn’t make any sense. It just happens. And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to go and be with him.” He taps the table. “Listen, I’m not saying that you need to run off and leave everything behind to be with this guy. Whatever you’re feeling might go away with time, that is possible. All I know is that you were much happier when Laura showed up with that dragon, and if Derek can make your life even better, then why are you running from that? I’m not going anywhere, Stiles. You’ll always be my son, and I’ll always be here for you. But that doesn't mean that you should give up your own happiness to stay here with me. I’ve lived my life. Now it's time to live yours.”

“I-.” He can feel the tears welling in his eyes, and doesn’t bother trying to stop them. 

John stands up and crosses the floor to pull Stiles up into a hug. “I expect you to bring him to meet me. Otherwise, I’ll be going on my own journey to hunt down a dragon keeper. That won’t end well for any of us.”

It makes Stiles laugh and grip his dad tighter, already thinking about the trip to come. Maybe, just maybe, he can have a happily ever after of his own.

\-----------

It takes only two days for Stiles to prepare everything for his journey. He sends a letter to Lydia, resigning from his post, and receives one back, signed by Lydia and Laura both, that bids him well wishes. 

The day he leaves, his father and Scott see him off, Scott demanding that he comes to visit soon, his father hugging him tightly and telling him everything will be alright.

It isn’t as hard to walk away from them as Stiles thought it would be, mostly because he’s already thinking about the person waiting for him on the other side of all of the trees.

Even though this is not the first time that he’s made this trip, Stiles can tell immediately that something there’s something different about the woods this time. They feel more alive, more welcoming. He gets about halfway through the journey before he understands why.

A small boy darts out from the trees, laughter wild and free as he runs past Stiles’ horse. Another boy chases after him, grin sharp. They almost startle Stiles out of the saddle. Laughter like bells rings out in every direction as other people, other fae appear, their smiles making their beauty almost unbearable. On the path beside him, another horse appears, pure white in color. It’s rider smiles over at him, slowing to match his pace.

“Mieczyslaw Stilinski,” Orla says, nodding at him. He doesn’t question how she knows his real name. “We’ve been wondering how long it would take for you to return.”

“I-.” He swallows hard, looking around. “What is this?”

Orla’s lavender gaze flits around the area before returning to him. “This has always been here. The forest is our domain. You simply could not see it before, had not been granted the Sight.”

He blinks at her. “I-. Um. I have it now?”

She nods. “When Vira accepted you, we did as well. And we granted you the Sight. That is why the path between the cottage and the city is shorter for you, why you can see everyone here, why you can hear our song.”

“What song?” He strains his ears, trying to hear anything past the laughter and merriment. 

Orla laughs. “The song of the fae is our oldest tradition, beaconing the night forward to the dawn. Not many mortals ever have the chance to hear it. You are lucky to have been given the chance.” He doesn’t know what to say to that, so he remains quiet. Orla cocks her head to one side as she watches him, unnaturally still. “Humans are very strange creatures. You spend your lives hoping for happiness and telling stories of times long gone, but instead of chasing that happiness, you give it up or make excuses. We have watched many human heroes fall in our time, give up because the odds were not in their favor.” Her smile is piercing. “We are happy to see that you are not going to be one of those heroes.” Her horse slows, allows Stiles to pass her by. “Merry parting, Mieczyslaw Stilinski, until we meet again.”

As he moves beyond the fae’s playground, Stiles doesn’t dwell on what Orla told him, locking away his questions in favor of looking forward to what will come.

\----------

It is almost dusk when Stiles catches sight of the familiar cottage through the tree line. Derek is kneeling beside his garden, Hal at his side, tending to the flowers. He must hear Stiles coming, because he rises as soon as the horse enters the clearing, ambling over to them with a smile. When he reaches Stiles, he grabs at the horse's reins and looks up. 

“What are you doing here,” he asks, reminiscent of their first meeting. 

Stiles smiles, repeating what he did then. “I’m just a traveler passing through.”

Amusement flares in Derek’s eyes, so fond as Stiles slips off of the horse to stand before him. “Travelers don’t come this far into the forest.” 

Tentatively, Stiles reaches out for Derek’s hands, watching as they curl together. “Well, actually, I was hoping that I could stay.” He takes a deep breath before Derek can respond, and launches into the speech he’s thought about the whole journey. “It might not make sense, and you can definitely turn me away if you’d like. But, being back in the city made me realize that I don’t want to be anywhere else but here. I want to help with the dragons, take care of your garden, watch Addie grow up. I want to be with you, helping and supporting you here. For the longest time, I thought that I was going to marry Lydia. What was a childhood crush kind of took over and became this long term goal, something I thought I had to have in order to be happy. But being with you here made me happy, and leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve had to do. Lydia was a dream I held onto when I had nothing else. But you-. You’re the only thing I never want to be without.”

Derek just stares at him, expression full of shock. He doesn’t say anything, pull Stiles closer or push him away. It makes Stiles nervous, makes him think about running away and hiding somewhere no one would find him. He knows how foolish it sounds, practically admitting to loving a mere stranger. And now Derek will turn him down and make him promise never to return to the clearing. Whatever his father was saying about love not needing to make sense obviously was a-.

Oh.

Stiles always thought that his first kiss would be awkward, maybe a little messy with inexperience. But when Derek presses their lips together, all Stiles feels is warmth. 

“You are always welcomed here, Stiles,” Derek whispers against his mouth. A blush spreads over his ears, hardly visible in the dim light. “I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care that you were gone, but Laura could tell I was lying. I would stay out too late, waiting to see if you might show up again, waiting to see if maybe you thought I was someone worth returning to. I thought it was foolish because I hadn’t known you long at all. Laura knew it was something else. She said-.” He meets Stiles’ gaze, a heat simmering in his eyes that makes Stiles quake. “She said that it was love. I didn’t believe her. But here you are, and-.” He trails off, leaving the words unspoken. It doesn’t need to be voiced, the ease with which they fall together, so helpless to it and so happy to give in. 

Stiles pulls him in closer for another kiss, enjoying the way that each one feels like a breath of fresh air. Tilting his head to one side for a better angle, Derek grips Stiles waist and allows their kisses to becoming biting and urgent. They stand together, for a long time, sharing kisses, until Derek finally pulls back.

He kisses Stiles softly on the nose once, quelling some of the heat between them. “Come on, Stiles,” he says, voice full of warmth. “Let’s go home.” 

Later, Stiles will tell Derek about his mom and will teach him how to make her favorite stew. Later, Derek will take Stiles down to the beach and will teach him how to skip stones the way his father taught him. They will stand together in a thunderstorm and watch Ardo dance with the sky. Derek will show Stiles how to understand some of Addie’s sounds, and they will both cry when she learns how to fly. 

Much later, they will attend Lydia's and Laura's wedding, and Derek will sob into Stiles’ chest that night because his parents didn't get to see his sister find love. Stiles will hold him tighter and will comfort him with the same stories that his mother would tell him when he was just a boy.

But for now, Stiles finds out how well his body fits with Derek's. He learns what it sounds like when Derek whispers his name, tastes Derek's laughter on his tongue. When Derek leads him to bed, Stiles follows after him without hesitating, knowing that this is where he wants to be.

He has his head pillowed on Derek’s chest as they lay pressed together, Halbert on the floor beside them, Addie curled up at their feet. The fae can be heard in the distance, their song a sweet symphony that reminds Stiles of warm summer nights. He's so warm and content.

Derek rubs his hands up and down Stiles’ back, a comforting weight and Stiles tilts his head up to look at him, as best he can without moving.

“You know,” he starts, enjoying the way that Derek’s eyes glisten in the soft light. “When I saw you, that first time in the woods, I thought you might have been a fairy.” 

When Derek breaks into laughter, Stiles can feel it in his chest. “You thought I was one of the fae.”

Stiles smacks at his side playfully. “Don’t laugh! I was lost in the woods, hunting after dragons, and after days of seeing nothing but trees, there you were. Besides, as soon as you turned around, I knew that you definitely were not a fairy. You were too grumpy.”

Derek snorts. “I think I had a reason to be.”

“Well yeah. You couldn’t have known how this was going to play out.”

Nuzzling against the top of Stiles’s head, Derek agrees. “No, I didn’t. All I knew was how different you were from the others. You confused me so much when you asked to stay. And I surprised myself by saying yes. I was so ready to turn you away, to run you off so you’d never come back.” He rubs a hand through Stiles’ hair. “I’m glad I didn't.”

“Me too.” The whispered confession makes them both smile. “When I got back to town, everyone could tell how miserable I was being there. Scott thought that there was something I wasn’t telling them about the trip, something that had gone wrong and was haunting me. My dad knew that I upset because I was pining.” There’s a moment of silence between them, when only the fae’s song can be heard over the gently crackling fire. Then Stiles says, “You know, you’re going to have to meet him.”

Under him, Derek tenses up. It makes Stiles laugh. “You play with dragons, and you’re afraid of my dad?”

“Humans are more complicated than dragons,” he mutters in a whine.

It makes Stiles laugh. “Maybe. But we’ll have to go to Laura’s and Lydia’s wedding, so we’ll already be in town. Plus, I know you’re going to want to spend a little more time around your sister before she gets married. And if we don't go to my dad, he’ll definitely try and fight the forest to hunt _us_ down. Besides,” he whispers into Derek’s collarbone. “I’ve already met your family. It’s only fair that you meet mine.”

He can feel Derek’s smile pressing into the crown of his head. The desire to taste it is too strong to ignore, so he pulls back just enough to tilt his head up and press their lips together. Derek sighs into the kiss, as easy as breathing. When Stiles pulls away after a heated moment, the smile on Derek’s face is breathtaking. “I can’t wait”

Stiles nuzzles back against Derek’s chest, allowing the warmth to pull him toward sleep. Derek tightens his arms around his waist, solid and real, and Stiles thinks that this is so much better than he could ever imagine. He smiles against Derek’s skin as the fairy song echoes through the cottage and the dragons slumber on. His mom would be happy; He got his happily ever after after all.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a different take on the classic "knights hunting dragons for princesses" fairy tale theme, Sterek edition.


End file.
